


In the Light of the Fire

by lionessvalenti



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Nightmares, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-01 22:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: Steve and Natasha get snowed in at the Avengers compound and realize maybe they don't need to take on everything alone.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 16
Kudos: 162
Collections: Multifandom Tropefest 2019





	In the Light of the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinginInTheRaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinginInTheRaine/gifts).

Steve and Natasha stood in front of a large window, watching the snow fall rapidly to the ground in thick, wet flakes. There was already at least three inches, and no sign of stopping. The forecast had called for snow, but there wasn't anything about a potential blizzard until the storm started.

"I don't think I'm going back to the city tonight," Steve said. "Or maybe not even tomorrow."

"Bet you're regretting coming to check on me now." Natasha linked their arms together and leaned against him. 

He turned his head toward her. "I wasn't checking on you."

Steve had been checking on her. He hated the thought of her all alone in the Avenger's compound, keeping tabs on everyone, trying to track down Clint, waiting on some sort of news that would never come. He didn't know what it was she was waiting for, and maybe she didn't even know, but whatever it was, she wasn't going to miss it. Even if it meant staying watch all alone.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You're a terrible liar."

"We both already knew that," Steve replied lightly.

She snorted a soft laugh. "Did you have big plans for tonight?"

"Pick up sushi on my way home and eat it alone, probably." He realized how sad that sounded as soon of the words left his mouth and cringed. "Wow, the snow is really doing me a favor, isn't it?"

Natasha nodded, looking mildly horrified as she gazed up at him. "Yes, it is. And to think you're coming here to make sure _I'm_ okay. I should be going down there to check on you. God, Steve, I hope I'm better company than take-out sushi."

"_Much_ better company," he agreed. "What should we do? Make a big fire and drink hot chocolate?"

"That's so cheesy," Natasha said, and she grinned. "So, we should definitely do that. I know it's not sushi, but I can make spaghetti. How does that sound?"

Steve smiled. "Sounds perfect."

The temperature of the compound was perfectly regulated, so a fire was incredibly unnecessary, but it was about the aesthetic. Though he was pretty sure, once the fire got to a status just shy of "roaring", that the temperature in the room went down to compensate.

"How's it going in here?" Steve asked as he walked into the kitchen. He had spent a lot of time with Natasha over their time living out of a quinjet, but there hadn't been many chances to cook, and when there had been, Sam took point. Natasha usually volunteered to dice vegetables. Steve volunteered to stay out of their way and wash the dishes afterwards.

Now it was just the two of them.

"It's under control," she replied, maybe not thinking about Sam at all, but she probably was. "It's just boiling water and putting in water. You want to get a jar of sauce out of the cabinet over there and heat it up?"

"Sure." Steve rummaged around in the pantry until he found a couple jars of spaghetti sauce. He wasn't sure why he thought she might actually be making the sauce. This made a lot more sense.

"I still can't believe it's snowing like this," Natasha said, her gaze out the window over the sink. "There hasn't been a blizzard in the area in years. I guess--"

He looked up when she cut herself off. "What?"

She smiled ruefully. "I hate it when Thanos may have had a point. Less people, less carbon emissions, and weather patterns start to go back to the way they were. A blizzard is a little thing in the grand scheme of the universe, but that doesn't mean it isn't directly related."

Steve noticed the way she specifically didn't say that Thanos had been right. But he had definitely thought the same thing. It had been over two years since the decimation and there had been a lot of changes for the better. But that didn't mean it had been a good thing.

"I know what you mean," he said.

When the food was ready, they took their plates into the sitting room and ate in front of the fire. Steve looked over at Natasha. who was wiping sauce off her chin as she chewed a possibly too large bite of pasta.

She made a motion like she was going to say something, but couldn't because of the chewing. When she finally swallowed, she said, "I'm used to eating by myself."

"Me too." He scooted a little closer to her on the sofa. "I should be coming up here more often. Not to check on you, just to... be here. We don't have to be doing all this alone."

"I'm not alone," Natasha said, almost defensively. "I have company all the time. You missed it when Nebula and Rocket were here last week. And you should be glad you missed it, because it was pretty awful."

Steve laughed. "What happened?"

She leaned over to grab her water glass, but didn't take a drink from it. The light from the fire brightened the highlights in her hair. "Rocket doesn't know how to read a room. He's the cause of headaches. All of the headaches, in the whole universe. Then Nebula makes me look warm and fuzzy. I don't know how to talk to her, They're a lot to take."

It didn't sound like fun, but Steve wished he _had_ been there. He wished she hadn't had to take on all of that alone. It would have been nice to have been there for her. She took on so much by herself, and he could have maybe helped ease the load.

"You can always call me when you're stressed out," Steve said softly. "It only takes me a couple hours to get up here."

"I was fine."

"You don't have to be fine."

Natasha scrunched up her nose. "Don't group therapy me, Steve."

He laughed. "All right, no therapy. But you know I'll come if you call, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." She shot him a friable smile. "We're all we've got left."

Steve set his plate on the coffee table and closed the gap between them. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she rested against him. He pressed a kiss to the top of Natasha's head, and she tilted her chin up to look at him.

"I'm glad you came to check on me."

He smiled. "I'm glad I stayed."

Natasha's expression softened, and there was something about it that made Steve's heart pound heavy in his chest. His instincts told him she was going to kiss him. He tightened his grip around her slightly, and--

The power shut off. If not for the fire, they would have been plunged into total darkness.

"The wind," Natasha said. She sat up and out of Steve's grasp, but didn't pull away from him. Pulling up a hologram from her watch, she checked on something within the compound. "The backup generators are only going to cover the essentials, so no lights. But the freezers stay cold, the heat will run in the rooms we're in, and the security is still up."

"We can entertain ourselves in the dark," Steve said, and was glad for the warm firelight because his face heated up as he said it. If Natasha _had_ been about to kiss him, he didn't want to be suggestive.

He had known her for so long, and he'd never been quite this nervous around her. He knew she was gorgeous; it was an objective fact. It had never stumbled him up before. Except now they were alone in the dark, with a romantic fire.

"We can still have hot chocolate," Natasha said. She closed up the holograms and sank back against Steve's side. "The cheesy fire is even nicer with the lights off."

Steve relaxed. He could handle couch snuggling. "Yeah, it is."

The food was left forgotten as they curled up together. They didn't say anything as they watched the flames dance against the darkness.

* * *

Despite Steve's assurance that they could be entertained, there was something about the electricity being out that made him sleepy. He wouldn't typically go to bed before ten o'clock, but it seemed to be natural for both of them to go to bed so early.

Steve bid Natasha goodnight, and they went into their separate rooms across the hall from each other. It was quiet in his room, almost too quiet, except for the sound of the wind outside, the snow hitting against the window panes.

He stripped out of his clothes, and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He always had clothes at the compound. It might not be his apartment in the city, but he had to admit, this felt like home.

Steve didn't remember drifting off, but hours later, he woke up with a start. He shot up, listening for whatever it was that woke him. Super hearing sometimes had disadvantages, especially when he was in the city, but in the quiet of the compound without electricity, it felt like there had to have been _something_.

There was nothing but silence for several seconds, and then he heard a soft cry.

He jumped out of bed and out of his room. He knocked on Natasha's door. "Nat?" There was no response, except for another strained sound. "Natasha?"

Steve knew her to be a light sleeper, so he expected her to respond to that, and when she didn't, he tried the door knob. To his relief, she hadn't locked the door. He would have knocked the door down if he had to, and while that would have woken her up, it probably would have been overkill.

The only light in the room was from Natasha's watch on the bedside table, but it was enough for Steve to make his way through the room, following the sound of Natasha's strangled cries.

"Nat," he said softly as he knelt next to her on the bed. He didn't want to startle her, but now that he was next to her, he could feel her thrashing in her sleep. Her arms twitched like she was trying to flail, but she was in a deep enough sleep to keep them from actually moving.

He rested his hand firmly on her shoulder. "Nat. Hey, Nat, wake up."

She made another pained noise, so he gave her a shake.

"_Natasha_."

Her eyes opened and her fist made hard contact with Steve's jaw, His bottom lip split open, and he could taste the blood. A second later, Steve was flat on his back with Natasha on top of him. He put up a hand to stop her from punching him again, his hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Natasha," he choked out. In the dim light, he saw that she hadn't been going for him with her fist again, but this time she had a knife in her hand. He had no idea where she had procured a _knife_ from, but it wasn't exactly surprising that she had one near the bed, if not hiding under her pillow.

"Steve?" she said, her voice thick with sleep. Her posture relaxed as she registered it was him. "Shit. Steve, I..."

He tried to smile, but it made his lip sting, and she couldn't see the details of his face anyway. "It's okay. Can you put down the knife?"

"Oh." Natasha sat back, and Steve released her arm. She set the knife down on the bedside table, but she didn't move. "I'm sorry."

"Are you okay?" Steve asked. Gently, he rested his hand on her leg. He would have opted for her arm or her shoulder, but she was still sitting on him. Her leg was closer.

His touch seemed to make her realize where she was. She climbed off of him and plopped down beside him, pulling her knees to her chest. Steve sat up, leaning against the headboard. He didn't dare touch her again, just in case she didn't want him to.

"Do you ever dream about it?" Natasha asked, which wasn't an answer to his question, but her voice was considerably more steady and awake.

He swallowed. He had, every night, for a long time. A hundred nights of watching Bucky turn to dust just beyond his reach. The unforgiving dark eternity of space, the sound of Stormbreaker slicing through Thanos' neck, and the sound of his voice still following after him as they went back home, quiet and empty-handed.

"Not as much anymore."

"I can't stop," she said, her voice cracking.

Steve couldn't help himself, he wrapped his arms around her. Thankfully, she relaxed against him instead of pushing him away. Or worse, going after him again with the knife.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She made a noise that could have been a sob, but he was pretty sure it was a laugh. "I told you, Steve, I don't want group therapy." She twisted around to look up at him, and he could see a smile on her face, but it faded into concern just as quickly. She brought her hand to his cheek, her thumb touching his lower lip. "I hurt you."

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding."

"I've bled worse. I'm pretty sure you've made me bleed worse."

Natasha snorted and pulled her hand back into her lap. "Probably. But I'm sorry."

"I'm fine," Steve insisted. "I've been accused of liking getting punched in the face."

She laughed, though it was still slightly strained. "You're sweet. You make this easy, Steve."

"What's that?"

"This." She tilted her face up and pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss. It was over almost before Steve could even register that it was happening, but it happened. 

A warm tingle ran down his spine. He brushed some hair away from her face, letting his hand rest on her cheek. His heart was pounding again, and in the quiet, she had to have been able to hear it. She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face closer to hers, but it was Steve who went in the second kiss.

It wasn't brief. It was warm and strangely familiar, the way Natasha's mouth opened and her nails dug into his skin. Steve moaned helplessly, his hand dropping to her waist, finding a gap of exposed skin between her shirt and her shorts.

Natasha pulled back, her face still only inches away. "You should definitely come up here more often."

Steve laughed. "Well, if we're going to kiss now, sure."

She chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Stay in here with me?"

"Of course."

It took a little arranging, arms and legs finding comfortable places that weren't suggestively close to private parts, but they finally curled up together beneath the blanket, Natasha's head resting on Steve's chest.

Steve was still awake long after Natasha's breathing evened out with sleep. He held her close, protectively. They didn't have to do this alone.


End file.
